Date: Wed, 8 Nov 2006 13:30:10 -0800 (PST)
From: jack santoro
Subject: Beginning with Paul, Part 3, Beginnings, 3/?
Beginning with Paul, Part 3
By JackSantoro@yahoo.com
Paul's tongue-tip flicked around the base of my corona, hitting
all the nerve endings in its sweep around the circumference. From the
flared rim on top, his tongue worked down one side, following the rim as
it swept forward on its way to the underside, where it ended in a lobe
welded to the lobe from the other side of my glans. Just back of where
the two sides joined my gee-string was attached to the bottom of the deep
triangular groove, and Paul's tongue strummed it before starting up the
other side. When he got to the top again he swiped his tongue across my
pouting slit while pumping my foreskin up and down to cover and compress
the crown.
I was filled with a sense of anticipation, awaiting the moment
when I'd go over the top and plunge into the abyss of orgasm, tumbling
in a mass of sensations. Paul's tongue produced a tickle wherever it
touched my swollen tip, and underlying the tickle was the delicious ache
from congested blood that had engorged my helmet and turned it to a dark
shade of purple. It would be only seconds before the tickle turned into
the familiar, mind-numbing hot tingle that would launch my orgasm and
send torrents of cream boiling from the lips of my distended slit.
Paul and I had eaten a hearty breakfast, our appetites stimulated
both by last night's docking and this morning's head-to-head frottage
that had sucked the cream from our bodies. We'd immediately undressed
when we entered my bedroom, both of us feeling that we could never get
enough from each other. Now, however, our erections were slower to rise,
and weren't quite as firm as before, lacking that steely hardness that
long unfulfilled desire can produce.
"I never get tired of handling your skin," Paul said as he sat
next to me on the bed. I knew exactly what he meant, as I'd seen the
psychic stimulation he'd derived from playing with my foreskin heighten
his excitement and enhance the intensity of his orgasms.
"My prick enjoys the attention," I assured him as I squeezed his
helmet-shaped glans, permanently laid bare by circumcision. Each squeeze
produced a responsive throb in his cock-root, pumping up his erection
notch by notch.
"I love the way your uncircumcised dick smells, but I guess
you're tired of hearing me say that," he said. I drew him to me and
kissed him on the lips, lightly but meaningfully.
"I never get tired of hearing it," I reassured him. "I'm glad
you enjoy it, and your enjoyment makes it hotter for me."
"That was wild, the way our tips throbbed against each other
yesterday and today. I could feel you coming, not just in my fingers but
in my tip." Paul looked me in the eyes as he announced this, and I was
swept by a rush of emotion that made me envelop him in my arms and drag
him down on the mattress, where I kissed his lips, forehead, cheeks,
neck, and nipples as I worked my way down to his prick. Paul kissed me
back, and we twisted our bodies into a "69" position as we worked
lower.
"I think we'd both enjoy making each other come with our mouths
this time," I suggested just before I touched my tongue-tip to his slit,
tasting the droplet of natural lubricant that was seeping between the
lips.
"I'd love to suck on your cock until you can't hold back any
more," he said. "I want to feel you coming in my mouth, taste your
juice on my tongue, and swallow it."
"Let's do it," I said. "I think we ought to go slowly, though,
so that we have a long build-up."
"I know what you mean," Paul said understandingly. "We've shot
two big loads each, and it's going to take time to get worked up enough
to the point where we were this morning."
"Right," I agreed. "Anyway, I always found that if I take my
time, it's more intense when I finally come."
"I've always had the same experience," Paul added. "It's more
intense for me, and it also lasts longer." Paul was gently stroking my
foreskin, bumping the base of my glans but not letting the hood ride over
the rim.
"I'll keep squeezing your big tip a while longer," I told him.
"I want to keep you hard, but not bring you too close to the edge."
"Maybe we can make it last two hours," Paul surmised.
Edging for two hours would be great." Now he had my foreskin all the way
back to bare the deep groove behind my rim, and his tongue plunged into
it avidly.
"Take it easy," I advised him as I cupped his tightening
ball-sac with my left hand. "The way you're going, you'll have my load
in a couple of minutes."
"I keep forgetting that your tip's so much more sensitive than
mine," he said. "I'll go slow, so that you won't pop off before
you're ready." He still held my swollen prick with his right hand, but
withdrew his mouth and began tickling my scrotal hairs with the
fingertips of his left hand, sending a shiver through my body.
I used my tongue to caress the areas of his prick I knew were
sensitive, beginning on the shaft where I worked around his thick brown
circumcision scar. As I felt him slide his fingertips back behind my
tight scrotum to caress the hairs on my perineum, I licked at the tender
tissue between his scar ring and the corona, working my tongue into the
groove behind the head.
"Mother Nature was really good to you," I commented as I paused
tonguing his prick. His straight shaft and prominent helmet were very
much like mine, and I always enjoyed handling his prick.
"Mother Nature was good to both of us," Paul replied. "Your
helmet is so smooth. I was born with a nice cock, but that damn doctor
cut the skin off mine."
"I'll make it up to you," I promised. "I'll make you come
hard and long." I knew I could do it, teasing his prick and keeping him
just below the point of no return until he begged me to let him come. Now
I felt his mouth envelop my glans, hot lips locked behind the rim while
his tongue worked passionately over the broad upper surface before
drawing back to swipe across the sensitive lips of my pouting slit.
I did the same to him, feeling the engorged glans harden even
further in my mouth as it lost its sponginess and filled with more blood.
"We'd better take a break," he suggested. "I feel like my
tip's about to explode and yours is very hard too." We broke off,
turning onto our backs, our pricks flopping down against our stomachs.
"We'll make this one last," I told him. "Let's give it a
couple of minutes to cool off."
"You ever press a finger into your tube behind your balls when
you start to come?" he asked. "I've done that a couple of times. That
makes it really hot."
"I've done that," I answered. "When I block my urethra, the
pressure really builds up inside it with each shot, and sometimes it
leaks back into my bladder."
"That's what happens with me too, and then after I'm finished,
I piss cream for a couple of seconds."
"How many ways have you experimented with to make your climax
hotter?" I asked. I'd been experimenting at ways to intensify my orgasm
since I'd begun masturbating at age 12 and was curious about his
experienced.
"I've used all sorts of thing," he replied. "Since I work in
an adult shop, I can get all sorts of sex toys at a discount, and I've
tried most of them. One of my favorites is a vibrator."
"I've used one a few times," I said. "I've got one here, in
fact."
"I bought a standard model a few years ago," he explained. "It
worked pretty good but the one problem with it was the cup that fits over
the head. It's one-size-fits-all." It's got some slits so the sides
expand for different size heads, but it doesn't make good contact all
round. That's when I decided to make a custom cup for myself. I bought
some "Friendly Plastic." This is plastic you can heat and mold to any
shape you want. I made a cup that fits perfectly over my big helmet, and
it worked like gangbusters."
"What happened?" I asked.
"The first time I tried it, I stood next to the bathroom sink to
catch my come. When I turned it on it was so hot that I came in less than
a minute, and then when it hit me my knees buckled. I had to hold on to
the counter to keep from falling."
"That sounds intense, much better than the usual jerk-off."
"It was, Jack, it was! I thought all my insides were spewing out
through my dick. I just flooded the sink."
"I'd like to have seen that," I affirmed. "In fact, I would
have liked to be holding your prick when you shot, to feel it
throbbing."
"It was throbbing, all right. My tip was swollen more than it had
ever been, and the cream shot out of the sides of the cup."
"What was it like afterward?" I prompted.
"I felt really empty, drained. I'd shot everything I had in me.
What happened when you used your vibrator?"
"Well, I've got only the standard cup, and it didn't fit my
helmet very well. I thought the sensations should have been better, but
they still were pretty good. I shot my load in a minute, and then took it
off and relaxed."
"When you come over Monday you can try mine," he said. "It fits
my helmet and since yours is so much like mine in size and shape, it
should fit you perfectly." As he spoke I rolled again to face his prick
and grasped the shaft at the base.
"Ever try clamping your fingers hard around the shaft?" I asked.
"I've done that to constrict the veins. That makes my prick get
rock-hard even when I'm not fully excited."
"I learned that trick from a guy I used to jack off with," Paul
admitted. "That works pretty well when I'm tired, or when I don't have
much time."
"I know what you mean," I said as I tightened my grip on Paul's
prick. "Sometimes I've just jacked myself to relax and get to sleep,
and this helped a lot." Paul now turned toward me, clamping his fingers
around the base of my prick. I felt blood rush into my glans, distending
it even more. Meanwhile, his swollen helmet had darkened in front of my
eyes.
"Both our tips are really hard now," he remarked. My foreskin
was still fully back, and I felt his tongue caressing my corona
systematically, up one side and down the other, pausing only to strum my
frenulum at the bottom.
I probed Paul's slit with my tongue-tip, knowing that his orifice
hadn't been desensitized by circumcision. His prick throbbed in my hand,
and I knew that he was getting the full sensation. Now his tongue-tip
probed my slit, and I shuddered in response.
"Your lube tastes good," he said, and I realized that I'd been
seeping during our conversation, ever though he hadn't touched my prick
for several minutes. I tasted the slippery, salty discharge that oozed
from his orifice, and I commented:
"So does yours, Paul. You've been leaking too."
"I get turned on by conversations like this," he said. "Hell, I
get turned on being close to you. Just looking at your hard dick makes me
hot."
"You make me hot too," I confessed. "I really want to suck your
cream and feel your prick throb against my tongue." Now I lapped around
his scar ring again, working my way up to the prominent rim, where I
caressed the back-face and the sexy flare on top.
"Our balls have been tight almost since we started," he said.
"We're both pretty hot."
"All the more reason to be careful," I advised. "We don't want
this to be over too soon."
Any time you want, I'll make you come," he said. "Watching you
come and feeling you shoot inside my mouth is going to be very
exciting."
"Let's take a few minutes more," I counseled. "I know you're
hot, but I want you even hotter before you let go."
"I want you to come first, Jack. Your cock's more sensitive, but
I want to feel your dick throb before I drop my load."
"Okay, I'll go first, Paul. Take your time, though." Paul's
tongue worked around my rim again, up and down, licking at my frenulum
and my slit, caressing the blunt front dome of my helmet, giving me
sensations all over its surface. He worked on the back-face of my rim,
tickling the little buds of sensation that grew there, and I shuddered
again.
Meanwhile, I systematically caressed his hot hard prick with my
tongue and lips. I locked my lips behind his rim as I cupped his balls,
and caressed the broad upper surface of his glans. I felt Paul's fingers
relax around the base of my prick.
"Your tip's really hot and hard," he observed. "I don't have
to squeeze your veins anymore. It's really dark now." I knew it was,
because I felt the tickling and the mild pleasant ache that told me my
glans needed full release. I saw that the veins in Paul's shaft bulged
with blood, and I loosened my grip as well, noting that his helmet
remained fully distended.
"I'd better stop working on you," I told him. "You know how I
get convulsions when I come, and I wouldn't want to bite you."
"Fine, Jack, you just relax and let me do the work," he said
before resuming his attack on my penis. I let go of his prick. I felt him
pucker his lips around my blunt front dome, and bump my thick foreskin
ring against my hard corona. My sensations built up as I thought only of
my impending release. My awareness of the world outside my body dimmed as
my consciousness focused on my prick.
Tension built in my body despite my efforts to remain relaxed. The
coffee I'd drunk with breakfast filled my bladder, producing a
delightful pressure that enhanced the sensations in my groin. My prick
was very hard, straining with the pressure of the blood that filled it,
and I knew I was near the edge.
Paul sensed this, because he eased up, keeping me in anticipation
for a few more precious seconds. My eyes closed, and now I was aware only
of his fingers, lips, and tongue on the most sensitive part of my body.
Lube poured from my slit, and he avidly lapped it up, swirling his lips
around my rim while his tongue gently worked the nose of my glans.
Inevitably, the sensations mounted, bringing me to the edge, and
now I felt a hot tingle in my glans. I began to moan, and Paul worked his
mouth aggressively up and down my tingling helmet, bringing my foreskin
up over the ridge when he lifted his mouth. Moving down with his lips, he
pushed my foreskin down to bare the entire glans to his mouth and tongue.
My helmet exploded with liquid fire, and my insides churned with
the start of orgasm. I cried out as a torrent of cream gushed into my
urethra, and then I felt his fingers pressing hard behind my balls,
chocking off my tube. Another discharge flooded my urethra, trapped by
the insistent pressure of Paul's fingers. I cried out helplessly as
multiple sensations flooded my lower body, my trapped ejaculations
distending my tube as more fluid poured into it.
My tip became too sensitive and Paul stopped moving his mouth when
he heard my anguished cry. He also released the pressure on my tube and I
felt a burning sensation as the fluid boiled up my prick in one
unrelenting gush. His lips were pursed around my orifice and he sucked
the discharge as it erupted into his mouth.
I blew a few more loads, mindlessly, automatically, until I was
totally drained. My body relaxed and my prick softened as I slid into the
limbo of afterglow.
Many minutes later Paul's voice told me:
Come on, you need to pee." He helped me up and walked me to the
bathroom sink, where he aimed my still-exposed glans into the bowl. I
relaxed and saw a thick gush of white cream precede my yellow stream. It
must have taken a minute for me to drain myself completely, during which
I noticed that his prick was still hard and seeping lube. I grasped his
shaft and rubbed my thumb over his leaking orifice, spreading the
slippery liquid in small circles around his slit, feeling him shudder in
response.
"I am so hot from making you come," he said. I felt your big tip
throbbing in my mouth...."
"You really drained me," I told him. "I'm finished for the
day, except for taking care of you." By this time my stream had finished
and only a couple of drops leaked from the lips of my slit. Paul shook my
prick gently and pulled the foreskin down to encase the now shrunken
helmet.
Back on the bed we faced each other in the "69" position, and I
clamped my fingers around the base of his shaft to make sure his prick
was fully engorged. The effect was immediate. Even though his helmet was
now dry, as my saliva had evaporated, it turned glossy and purple with
the trapped blood.
My tongue-tip probed his slit, and then worked under the head,
tackling the frenulum. I went up the right side to the sexy flare on top,
and then down the other side into the vee-groove again. Now I engulfed
the entire hemet, locking my lips around the brown scar ring behind it,
and began a stroking motion, my lips caressing his scar and the delicate
tissue between it and the rim. My tongue worked over the broad upper
surface of his glans, massaging the nerve endings buried in the tissues.
Paul's breathing was more rapid now, signaling that his
excitement was mounting, and I cupped his tight sac with the fingers of
my left hand, fingertips pressed lightly into the tender flesh behind it.
I knew that when he unleashed his orgasm, I'd feel the first pulse in
his urethra, and be able to block it, retaining his ejaculations. He'd
given me an explosive orgasm despite my depleted conditions, and I wanted
to give him no less.
Now I withdrew my mouth slightly so that my lips encircled his prominent
corona, and began working the skin of his shaft back and forth. It
stretched just enough to bump his rim, and on the back-stroke I tugged
enough to stretch its nerve endings. Paul's breathing was shallow and
rapid, and he was moaning softly with each exhalation.
The surface of his glans was smooth and rock-hard, the mucous membrane
covering fully distended. I tasted the slippery saltiness emanating from
his pouting slit, savoring the flavor as I continued to work on his
prick. The veins along the shaft bulged with trapped blood.
"Oh, that's great, Jack," he whispered softly, urgently, as his
arousal neared the peak. I wasn't trying to tease his prick now, because
he truly needed to drain himself in the same explosive way I'd poured
out my juice, in a hot release that would leave him dazed.
"I'm feeling that tickle," he whispered. As I was sure his prick was
completely distended, I removed my hand from around the base and pressed
in against his lower abdomen, increasing the pressure in his bladder to
heighten his sensations and intensify his impending orgasm. Paul moaned
loudly, and even more loudly when I scraped the top surface of his helmet
with my teeth. I pulled forward hard on his skin, pressing the flesh
against the back-face of his corona, working him up to the point of no
return.
"It's tingling," he said in an agonized voice, and I scraped the
delicate nerve endings again, launching his orgasm.
"AAAAHHHHH!" he yelled as the hot blast of his climax overwhelmed him.
His glans throbbed hard in my mouth, and I felt the pulse behind his
scrotum and pressed in hard, constricting the tube and trapping the
cream. I knew that the hot lava stream was searing his urethra, producing
divine sensations that made him yelp again as his tube pulsed a second
time as his helmet hammered my tongue.
I didn't have to swallow, as nothing emerged from his slit, and I was
able to concentrate on maximizing his sensations. Paul yelped again, the
blissful agony evident in his voice, as the third shock-wave hit him. Now
I released the pressure and as his glans throbbed in my mouth it shot a
thick and heavy stream of his viscous juice down my throat. I swallowed
hard and had to swallow again as the stream continued. The odor of
chlorine filled my mouth and nasal passages.
His helmet throbbed again, releasing another hot torrent into my mouth as
Paul continued moaning and yelping uncontrollably. I gave his glans one
last scrape of my teeth and made him cry out again as his throbbing prick
erupted again. Now I simply worked his helmet with my lips to maintain
his sensations as the jets declined and finally settled into a slow
dribble.
I ran my fingertip up his urethra, from behind his balls along the
underside of his shaft, draining the last drops from his tortured prick.
He was helpless in my arms as I lifted him from the bed and walked him to
the bathroom. His erection was fading fast, and by the time we reached
the sink it arced down toward the floor. I supported him as he came down
fully from his high, and his body relaxed against mine.
"Just relax, Paul," I suggested. "Just go limp and let it happen." In
another minute his sphincter relaxed and a slow dribble of white cream
emerged from his slit, followed by yellow fluid slowly increasing to a
bold stream. I continued to support Paul as he drained himself, and when
the flow had decreased to a few drops, we stepped into the shower.
We soaped each other languidly, totally relaxed, enjoying the intimacy,
and then rinsed and dried ourselves. Back in the bedroom we sank into a
deep sleep, totally satisfied and blissful in each others' arms. Monday
would come soon enough.
Continued in Part 4